Catch22: A
by darkenedmoonlightflame
Summary: [For the 1000Theme!Challenge by Mint Pizza Queen. NARUTO centric. AU and NonAU.] [15th theme: Adrenaline. Afterthought.] Adrenaline fits in quite neatly, nestled somewhere in Sasuke’s chilled heart between Naruto’s naïve smile and the left ventricle. SxN.
1. Introductory Note

**o.O.o.O**

**Catch-22**

**Uchiha X Uzumaki Naruto, Uzumaki Naruto X Uchiha bias. Shounen-ai—don't like, don't read, don't cry. Mainly SasuNaruSasu, possibly some ItaNaruIta. There may be hints of other pairs, or generic-ness. This is a NARUTO-centric theme collection.**

**darkenedmoonlightflame**

**For the 1000-Theme!Challenge by Mint Pizza Queen. NARUTO-centric. Alternate Universe and Non-Alternate Universe. It was lovingly erratic. It was insanely problematic. It was pathetically ambitious. It was simply grand. SasuNaruSasu, plus some others. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Naruto or the 1000 Themes, and do not claim to. However, everything else, AKA: the writing, (some if not all of) the (theme-guided) plot, any poetic interpretation, et cetera, IS MINE._

(A/N: This will serve as an introduction. Welcome, yeah? I am insane to begin this.

(Note: Each set of ten will cover a certain type of theme, depending on the mood that I feel is generated by the content. Above, you will find the generic summary. And by NARUTO-centric, I mean series-centric, not character-centric.

(Note: Every now and then, the reader will come across a SKIPPED theme. I will return to it, and yes, I will notify everyone when I have completed it. Keep in mind that the majority of the themes have been done before hand, so don't fear for my deadlines just yet. I began the challenge on Wednesday, March 28th, 2007. It's been a while (Now it's Monday.), and currently, I've still only done eight themes. (sighs) Hopefully, hopefully…!

(Note: Please, if you feel the overwhelming urge to ask a question or to ask for clarification, please do so. I encourage feedback, positive or critical. And no, I personally do not care to hear about how 'Oh-em-gee1!1!!eleven!! Eyes HEEEYTE sasurNru! Smae fr Ieeh-tuhNru!' Sorry if you have difficulty translating. (grins) Nonetheless, your cooperation is appreciated.

(Title Note: What is catch-22? I'm sure that at least one person is a bit curious. (For the abridged definition, just check at the bottom. It'll save the rest of you time.) Aside from that, I chose this because, in the creation of this collection, I have just created myself a nice, fat and prosperous catch-22. Nonsensical, I daresay.

(… I have now promptly forgotten the rest of my welcome speech. Feel free to proceed, or backtrack if you don't like short, varied styles. Each piece will be self-sufficient, or so I think.

(So, presenting, Catch-22, Parts One through Fifty-Seven: letter a.)

* * *

**Catch-22**

**April 2nd, 2007**

**INTRODUCTION equals CONCLUDED

* * *

**

**catch-22:**

One entry found for catch-22.

(For specific pronunciation, definition-provided examples, and usage details, please see: http//www. m-w. com/ dictionary/ catch-22. Take out all the extra spaces and that last period.)

**1: **

A problematic situation for which the only solution is denied by a circumstance inherent in the problem or by a rule; also: the circumstance or rule that denies a solution

**2: **

a: An illogical, unreasonable, or senseless situation

b: A measure or policy whose effect is the opposite of what was intended

c: A situation presenting two equally undesirable alternatives

**3:**

A hidden difficulty or means of entrapment: CATCH


	2. A Bridge Too Far

**o.O.o.O**

**Generic Title: Catch-22 (a)**

**Title: Militant Success**

**Set: WAR**

**Pair: SasuNaruSasu, if seen as so.**

**Author: darkenedmoonlightflame**

**Summary: 1st theme: A Bridge Too Far. (There was to be no success, and the entire battalion knew so.)**

**Rating: T, for implied soon-to-come violence and theme.**

**Word Count: 269. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Naruto or the 1000 Themes, and do not claim to. However, everything else, AKA: the writing, (some if not all of) the (theme-guided) plot, any poetic interpretation, et cetera, IS MINE._

(A/N: …Ah.

(So, presenting, Catch-22, Part One.)

* * *

**Catch-22 (a)**

**March 28th, 2007

* * *

**

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_

**One, A Bridge Too Far—Militant Success—**

He sighed, rubbing circles in the dirt with his gleaming boots. Military boots, of course, were not in public demand, and so it was all right for the time being to tarnish them. The delicate little eyelets seemed to mock him, ever-more condescending as the thin laces swayed. Every movement was performed in a superior, omnipotent fashion. Wordlessly, Naruto narrowed his eyes. Adjusting his grip on the sniper, he dug his heels in, forcing more pressure into his mind-diverting task.

It was futile. This whole operation was futile. There was to be no success, and the entire battalion knew so. It was an awfully foreboding sensation. He closed his blue, blue eyes and steeled himself for landing. Four hours, thirteen minutes, and twenty-two seconds left until inevitable demise.

It was unbearable.

Nonetheless, he tried to let his hands do the thinking. Let his hands feed a new magazine of bullets into the barrel. Let his hands ignore the trembles that overtook his body. Let his hands be unaware of his terrified, rapidly-increasing heartbeat. Let his hands forget the sound of blood rushing throughout him, roaring with impertinence. Let it be only his hands that raged with insincere killing intent. Let it be only his hands—!

A callused, familiar hand shook him from his reverie. "Hey."

His not-quite-yet-heartless eyes softened, vision blurred and tears building as he turned to the dark-haired boy. And his parched lips whispered in return: "Hey, teme. Just don't die." No more words emerged from the warm, wry shape beside him. Companionable, apprehensive silence reigned in the aircraft.

Four hours, ten minutes, thirty-one seconds remaining.

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_


	3. A Hero Emerges

**o.O.o.O**

**Generic Title: Catch-22 (a)**

**Title: Dandy**

**Set: WAR**

**Pair: None.**

**Author: darkenedmoonlightflame**

**Summary: 2nd theme: A Hero Emerges. (His dark eyes roamed, his ordinary hands fumbled for a lighter.)**

**Rating: T, for light gore.**

**Word Count: 244. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Naruto or the 1000 Themes, and do not claim to. However, everything else, AKA: the writing, (some if not all of) the (theme-guided) plot, any poetic interpretation, et cetera, IS MINE._

(A/N: Shikamaru's turn, hmm? I've heard that he smokes in the manga, so I've stuck with that. Sorry if I'm wrong. And why the rank of lieutenant? Well, it's because he's smart, but not very motivated or wildly ambitious. (grins sheepishly, shrugs) My references to war are likely inaccurate, and do not reflect upon my country (America) or its citizens, please note.

(So, presenting, Catch-22, Part Two.)

* * *

**Catch-22 (a)**

**March 28th, 2007

* * *

**

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_

**Two, A Hero Emerges—Dandy—**

It was both gallant, and frightening. He stood at the peak of the hill, surveying the damage. An innumerable amount of devastation lay spread out before him, surrounding him from below. There were bodies—some strewn there blankly, others hidden amongst gore, most unidentifiable underneath the blood—as expected, and many contused bits of jagged metal. Planes, they had once been.

There were a few survivors, picking their way through it all to the hill. It was the only thing that was untouched. Ally or not, they cast aside their vests and spare rounds to instead lean on weapons and limp closer. But where were his men? Shikamaru inspected them critically, gazing closely at each new face, before turning away. No luck. Closing his eyes, he hissed, "Damn it. God damn it."

He was the current lieutenant, and it would be very unseemly to have suddenly _misplaced_ his subordinates. But that wasn't what was affecting him now—his forte was lethargy, not an air of iciness. Inhaling and exhaling heavily from his post on the ridge, he felt gravely tired. The fading smoke pooled in the air around him, harsh. His dark eyes roamed, his ordinary hands fumbled for a lighter. Clamping a fresh cigarette carefully between his teeth and chapped lips, Shikamaru cupped a hand around it all and contained the sparks.

All the while, he murmured: "What a demanding job. How ridiculously troublesome."

The sun rose over the crest of the battlefield.

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_


	4. A Little More than Friends SKIPPED

**x--x--x**

**The third theme, A Little More than Friends, has been SKIPPED for now. (sighs) And yes, I will come back to it.**

**x--x--x**

**Ja ne.**


	5. A Place to Feel Safe

**o.O.o.O**

**Generic Title: Catch-22 (a)**

**Title: Hospital**

**Set: WAR**

**Pair: Mild SasuNaruSasu implications, one-sided SakuNaru and SakuSasu.**

**Author: darkenedmoonlightflame**

**Summary: 4th theme: A Place to Feel Safe. (I don't move, except to shake and tilt my head slightly, hoping to clear out the deadly sin of hope.)**

**Rating: K+, for theme.**

**Word Count: 744. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Naruto or the 1000 Themes, and do not claim to. However, everything else, AKA: the writing, (some if not all of) the (theme-guided) plot, any poetic interpretation, et cetera, IS MINE._

(A/N: It's longer. And now I feel bad. Great.

(So, presenting, Catch-22, Part Four.)

* * *

**Catch-22 (a)**

**March 29th, 2007

* * *

**

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_

**Four, A Place to Feel Safe—Hospital—**

I shouldn't be scared to go home. I know, I know: this is an awkward place to begin in. Unfortunately, reprimanding myself over it is absolutely and totally a time-waster. Despite years of going against the odds—'defying commonplaceness', more like it—I still can't get used to the emptiness I feel when confronted with the facts. My apartment is bare, and there's no trace of either of them.

They've come, been drafted… and they've gone. They've done these things together and without me, of course. It hurts, to think that they might have already forgotten me.

What happened to friendship? What ever happened to loyalty? _I wish…_

I wish. I wonder if I will ever see them again, here and now.

Now, instead, I volunteer. My time is consumed with sincere smiles, calculated conversation, worries, stitches, stitches, company, blood, more stitches, and the smell of too-clean lemons… Yeah. A hospital; I work at a hospital on the border. Presently, I'm grinning again, laughing softly but truly, my hand resting at the edge of the covers. The blond-haired girl grins back at me devilishly, her blue eyes twinkling merrily.

A part of my mind tries to cast her as Ino, my childhood best friend—They just look so similar…!—but that can't be right. She died overseas.

The clock strikes five o'clock, and we both jump a little, startled. I apologize quickly, and formalities like 'goodbye' pass by fast and right away. Soon enough, I hug her and I'm on my way out, grabbing my favorite red jacket and folding up the apron and nametag I've been given.

Another day gone by, and I'm about to hang up the rest of my devices at the turn-in desk. The fountain pen is already in my hand, and I'm preparing to sign and escort myself out. A couple passes by, clad in the proper colors of the army, supporting one another. The small one, with light hair, leans on the man with dark hair, still smiling—it looks a bit like a pained grimace to me—although one of her arms hangs at an unnatural angle. There is blood in her hair, and it's dripping into her eyes, making its way through the white gauze around her forehead. The male with her is in an equally bad state, but that's not what makes me pause.

They're acting like this isn't a war. Like it's just the two of them, lost in their own little world. I'm so envious…!

They look so lovely, so happy, so like…

My green eyes follow them across the floor, attracted and drawn to the familiar sight of two very different people. Gold and obsidian, blue and onyx, tan and pale, Naruto and Sasuke… When will they come home? My eyes sting, and I briefly toy with the idea of wiping at them. But that's not right, that's not quite right: Sasuke and Naruto are _not_ dead! So there's absolutely no need to cry or sob or make a fuss about it all and… and… And—

"Sakura-chan?" The receptionist seems concerned, as if she hasn't quite seen this side of me before. How odd.

I don't move, except to shake and tilt my head slightly, hoping to clear out the deadly sin of hope. I don't understand. I can't comprehend anything right, today. All that I hear is… is what I was saying: that they can't be dead…! I won't allow for it! The tears—I hadn't known they were there, really—slide down, out of the corners of my eyes, trailing across my porcelain-like skin. Diagonal lines that burn below the surface, is what they are to me.

"Sakura-ch—"

The grayish system at my hip—the very one I'm about to remove—crackles to life, tangled wires and all. The radio that's just barely in my grasp manages to sputter: "Commotion Level Four, Division Six. All available staff please report to the Suna department. It's a major emergency. Repeat: all available staff report to the Suna department. Thank you. Over and out."

I'm given no further time to think.

"Ara, gomen, Tenten-chan. I guess I'll be staying late after all. Thank God for strong coffee, right? Ja ne!" I'm smiling again, even as I scrub off the tears and even as I dash off into the sterile hallways that are the veins of my second home.

The line between safety and ample distraction is rather thin for me, after all.

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_

_**Notes:**_

1: I know absolute zero about drafting and working as a nurse. If my incorrect-ness bothers you, if you can correct me, please do! (The 'over and out' simply means that the broadcast is finished. Used for planes, et cetera.)

2: Not only did I kill off Ino (and the SasuNaru duo is MIA), but I'm unsure as to how Tenten's name goes. Did I get it right, or is it TenTen?

3: Using hope as the deadliest, eighth sin was brought on by A Northern Light, by Jennifer Donnelly (which is _not mine_ either).


	6. A Rival Appears! SKIPPED

**x--x--x**

**The fifth theme (A Rival Appears!) has been SKIPPED for now. (sighs) And yes, I will come back to it.**

**x--x--x**

**Ja ne.**


	7. Abandoned

**o.O.o.O**

**Generic Title: Catch-22 (a)**

**Title: Words of Beauty**

**Set: WAR**

**Pair: ItaNaruIta mini-moment!**

**Author: darkenedmoonlightflame**

**Summary: 6th theme: Abandoned. (I can only attend to one issue at a time.)**

**Rating: K+, for theme.**

**Word Count: 198. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Naruto or the 1000 Themes, and do not claim to. However, everything else, AKA: the writing, (some if not all of) the (theme-guided) plot, any poetic interpretation, et cetera, IS MINE._

(A/N: It's set in the right era, this time. I guess it's an alternate ending to the Uchiha massacre… Leaves behind a lot of questions, hnn? Interpret and ask to your heart's content, dear reader(s).

(A question: is Itachi way too OOC (out-of-character)? Probably.

(So, presenting, Catch-22, Part Six.)

* * *

**Catch-22 (a) **

March 29th, 2007

* * *

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_

**Six, Abandoned—Words of Beauty—**

I close my eyes. There's nothing left to see. I have no desire to gaze upon the remnants of my 'comrades', and of this proud estate. My body aches, my lungs demand for oxygen, my arms wish to move, my throat burns… I can only attend to one issue at a time. And I want only to think of Naruto.

**_What of Naruto? Have I succeeded? _**I want to ask, but there is no one to hear, no one to listen. There is no one to care, no one to smile grimly and tell me that it will all be okay. I don't mind.

The twin katanas cradled in my lap rustle with discontent, and I pry apart my bloodstained fingers to give them some space. The hilts are pressing roughly into my side, and the corner of my mouth twitches upward. My smile's ghost appears, brief as it flitters across my lips.

I tilt my head to cough out the blood.

It's painful, and I'm all alone.

'_In death, we are all glorious…'_

He told me, _'In death, everyone will be especially beautiful, Itachi-san.'_

Such is the tale of a shinobi: it's a tragic and lonely path.

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

**_…_**


	8. Above the Thunder

**o.O.o.O**

**Generic Title: Catch-22 (a)**

**Title: Downpour**

**Set: WAR**

**Pair: DEFINITELY SasuNaruSasu.**

**Author: darkenedmoonlightflame**

**Summary: 7th theme: Above the Thunder. ("It's going to rain, you know," He muttered lowly into the hair of his lover.)**

**Rating: K.**

**Word Count: 344. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Naruto or the 1000 Themes, and do not claim to. However, everything else, AKA: the writing, (some if not all of) the (theme-guided) plot, any poetic interpretation, et cetera, IS MINE._

(A/N: Happier, ne? Not all war 'drabbles' are set during… well, war. Is it even the tiniest bit reminiscent or romantic? I didn't try terribly hard for that feel, and so this isn't my best _or_ favorite. And don't ask about the random name. Sorry to any that share it: I'm not poking fun at you—it was the first D-name I thought of.

(Note: Brigadier is a rank in the land-based military. Thank God for Hagane no Renkinjutsushi (FMA), it helps me tons.

(So, presenting, Catch-22, Part Seven.)

* * *

**Catch-22 (a)**

**March 29th, 2007

* * *

**

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_

**Seven, Above the Thunder—Downpour—**

Lying on his back while watching the stars, Naruto could easily be described as ethereal. Pinpricks of light and the ever-evolving constellations were reflected clearly and with mirth, contained and lost within the ocean of his cerulean eyes. Wild golden hair bleached a fair, fair whitish-yellow in the absence of light was spread across the moist earth. The boy himself, lanky and still growing, relaxed without a care, remaining where he fell.

Sasuke hated to sound soppy, but… Well, Naruto was special. No matter what they had been through together, no matter how degrading the circumstance, he had continued to maintain a certain aura of wonder and innocence. Hiding a tiny smile, Sasuke proceeded with tugging the lithe frame of the other closer.

"It's going to rain, you know," He muttered lowly into the hair of his lover.

Naruto rolled his eyes. "_Yes_, teme. It's going to rain tonight. I know. Get over it already, won't you? Who are you, anyway—Disintegrating Dylan?"

Sasuke snorted, averting his eyes and staring upwards at the heavens. Sometimes, it was just so easy to get caught up in the bigger picture—a fourth World War wasn't easily overlooked—and he really missed doing casual, romantic things like this with the feisty blond. Sometimes, he could nearly think back to The Times. Times where life was a chance drawing, a step or misstep, that extra bullet that you either brought or forgot to bring, your placement in the lines of duty. Times where the deciding factor between coming home to Naruto and dying over there, in a place akin to Hell, could very well be—

He tried not to think like that.

Thunder rang out across the sky, and before they knew it, they had been caught in the downpour.

Naruto grumbled in frustration, fiddling with his wedding band—the very same one that Sasuke had fought tooth and nail for as a Brigadier—and giving his husband an ambiguously-flirty peck on the lips. "So much for an umbrella. Way to ruin the mood, ne?"

Sasuke just smirked.

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

**_…_**


	9. Absolute

**o.O.o.O**

**Generic Title: Catch-22 (a)**

**Title: Hostage**

**Set: WAR**

**Pair: SasuNaruSasu hints.**

**Author: darkenedmoonlightflame**

**Summary: 8th theme: Absolute. (Actions will suffice when Sasuke asks whether or not the boy will come with him.)**

**Rating: T+ (borderline M) for theme, language, light blood.**

**Word Count: 550. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Naruto or the 1000 Themes, and do not claim to. However, everything else, AKA: the writing, (some if not all of) the (theme-guided) plot, any poetic interpretation, et cetera, IS MINE._

(A/N: I kinda like this one… Which sure doesn't say much about my personality. (snorts)

(So, presenting, Catch-22, Part Eight.)

* * *

**Catch-22 (a)**

**March 30th, 2007

* * *

**

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_

**Eight, Absolute—Hostage—**

The ropes dig into his hands mercilessly, but he grits his teeth and continues to rotate his shoulders. Fifty times forward… Thirty times backward… Left… Right… It works, but barely. When he collapses back against the frigid stone wall, blinding moonlight striking his dirtied face, the bindings are looser. He rests.

In the morning, that boy will be back. The one who feeds him, when he shouldn't. The one who is kind to him, when it isn't right. The one that doesn't care if he does not fit the perfect image, the one who doesn't mind if his 'best friend' is older and ever-so-cruel despite the incessant kindness. This boy… He's blond, congenial, and almost always smiling.

They've known each other for about a month. It's a difficult game to play. Sasuke knows that it's only a matter of time until the two of them are discovered, together. When the time comes—maybe even tonight; the era during which his constraints are slipping—the hostage will ask the gregarious boy something. He won't explain. He won't push or prod for an answer. Actions will suffice when Sasuke asks whether or not the boy will come with him.

He can't imagine the situation outside. He's been locked up in here for what seems like centuries. His brain logically supplies that it has only been a little over a year. The crime is his appearance: he is not what was envisioned…

Who would want to stay here, in this country, during such a dangerous genocide, anyway?

Sasuke hopes that the boy will agree to tag along. A person with such a wide, well-meaning smile can only be a loudmouth—but at least the moments of silence and weariness will pass more quickly. Then again, all of that jabber will probably be annoying, to his anti-social side. He sighs in the darkness. He'll learn to get over it. There has been far too much silence without the boy, lately.

Speaking of which, he hears footsteps outside the cell. Taking a deep breath, he mentally prepares himself. Since when did he get so emotional over things like this? ('Since a wrong word has the power to kill you,' His mind answers.) Contused behind his back, his hands curl into tight fists, and little by little, their rigid tension settles into his arms.

Okay. So he really, _really_ hopes that the boy will agree to tag along.

But life isn't so plain and clean. Nothing is precisely absolute.

That night, as the boy—Sasuke now knows that his name is Naruto—enters, right away it's obvious that something is wrong. "Hey…" His boyish voice is hoarse, too loud, and it cracks a few times, although the word is only one syllable long. "Hey." He ends, trailing off quietly.

Suddenly, Sasuke's unbound hands—he has already forgotten about his plans of asking—are grabbed. Being hoisted to his feet fully awakens him. "What the fuck do you think you are doing?" He blurts out, all at once, because his voice is disjointed and strained from disuse. Everything at once—it's better like that.

And then he notices.

Naruto's hands are covered with blood, and the red liquid gleams in the moonlight as the shaken boy fights desperately to turn the key in the prison cell's door.

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_

_**Note:**_

In addition, credit for the Nazi-Jew!Naruto-Sasuke theme (if interpreted as so, here) goes to VanityWantsYou ('Salvation'), darkhunter709 ('Blood Brothers'), and any others. I was going for more of a general genocide, but I guess my mind had not-too-drastically-different agenda. (sighs) Sorry if it bothers anyone. And no, Sasuke is not in a concentration camp or ghetto.

Let's just say he's a prominent figure because of his last name (Uchiha), and his captors keep him in Isolation. Ask away.


	10. Ace of Hearts

**o.O.o.O**

**Generic Title: Catch-22 (a)**

**Title: Cards**

**Set: WAR**

**Pair: SasuNaruSasu implied.**

**Author: darkenedmoonlightflame**

**Summary: 9th theme: Ace of Hearts. (It was goodbye, but no one wanted to be the first to say such a morbid word.)**

**Rating: K+, for language and theme.**

**Word Count: 520. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Naruto or the 1000 Themes, and do not claim to. However, everything else, AKA: the writing, (some if not all of) the (theme-guided) plot, any poetic interpretation, et cetera, IS MINE._

(A/N: Another one that I like. (And yes, I did kind of want that 'cliché-ish feel' at the end.) I wonder if the ones I like are any good at all…

(Note: One away from finishing this theme set! (smiles, cheers)

(Note: I'm sure this will leave many with questions. Ask away.

(So, presenting, Catch-22, Part Nine.)

* * *

**Catch-22 (a)**

**March 30th, 2007

* * *

**

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_

**Nine, Ace of Hearts—Cards—**

Tomorrow, it would begin. For tonight, there was laughter. Wine and scotch to forget—but only in miniscule amounts, as the pilots had to remain sober for just a bit longer than the rest—were smuggled into the campsite. On the velvety-green table, a battered deck of cards was distributed among five men. The cards were patterned: blue diamonds in even succession—the 'chips' were mismatched, and the men were boisterous. It was almost as though they didn't recognize the date, didn't recognize what tomorrow was to be.

It was likely that they didn't want to.

"So much for the 'Greatest Battle', hmm, boys?" The shaggy brunette waved a dismissive hand in the air, snorting derisively. The whiskey flagon in his other hand was nearly empty, and as he hiccuped again, it tipped to one side and spilled a bit. The soldier didn't pay it any mind, instead ranting: "I think the only thing _great_ about it is that it'll be over quick, ne?" His licked his cracked lips, and took another sip, tossing his head back to swallow.

"Yes, Kiba-sei." The neatly-groomed man in the corner had finished polishing his sunglasses, and as he donned them once more, he murmured, "Yes."

Smoothly, a third interjected: "'Yes', what, Shino-kun? Sure, it'll be fast. But did those irresponsible fools have to resort to this?" He was the oldest, and although his tone was heated, he remained the most sensible. Resetting his spiky dark brown ponytail, he added, "Two pairs: fives and twos, gentlemen."

"Shit!" The blond-haired, blue-eyed male swore, tossing down his cards. "I'm out. Iruka-sensei, why do you always get the good stuff?" The aforementioned man, Iruka, absentmindedly rubbed at the scar on the bridge of his nose, grinning sheepishly.

"Royal flush. And _no_, dobe, this isn't some kind of conspiracy. You're just lousy at poker." As an afterthought, the smug, dark-eyed teenager tacked on, "Usuratonkachi." Nonchalantly, he displayed the cards and raked the incompatible bits—A chess piece, a dollar bill, ten ramen cups in various states of emptiness, a crystallized butterfly, pretzels, a wad of tape, nearly twenty I-O-U papers…—towards himself.

"**_SASUKE-TEME!!!_** You're so _rude_!"

"And here I thought that you liked it rough."

"Why, you…! I'm gonna—"

Regardless of the strange conversational topic, at one point or another, they all smiled in unison.

And really, they were very good at pretending. It was a nice enough game of cards, one that was presently rather popular among the ranks. But their untroubled manner seemed slightly off. It didn't disguise anything—nervousness, apprehension, fear—as originally desired. For now, that was okay. The five men hadn't gotten all suited up yet; casual slacks and loosely-if-not-at-all-collared shirts were a normal sight among them. Tomorrow, it would be all about protective clothing and metallic bits and transmitting devices and pilot's gear.

Tomorrow, the maybe-suicidal missions would commence.

But that was tomorrow. For now, talk was light-hearted. It was goodbye, but no one wanted to be the first to say such a morbid word. Abruptly Sasuke advised, "Try again, Naruto. But this time, let the cards fall where they may."

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_


	11. Ache

**o.O.o.O**

**Generic Title: Catch-22 (a)**

**Title: What Remains**

**Set: WAR**

**Pair: None.**

**Author: darkenedmoonlightflame**

**Summary: 10th theme: Ache. (He'd been young, he'd been reckless…)**

**Rating: T, for theme.**

**Word Count: 292. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Naruto or the 1000 Themes, and do not claim to. However, everything else, AKA: the writing, (some if not all of) the (theme-guided) plot, any poetic interpretation, et cetera, IS MINE._

(A/N: Strange and disagreeable, I think. I pity Chouji. I thought that it might be nice to see him in a different light, though.

(Note: This is the last bit on war! (grins, does victory dance) Eheheheh...! **_NEXT SET: UCHIHA SASUKE._**

(So, presenting, Catch-22, Part Ten.)

* * *

**Catch-22 (a)**

**March 30th, 2007

* * *

**

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_

**Ten, Ache—What Remains—**

He closed his eyes, but the images came right away. He opened his eyes right away and instead stared at the ceiling. Demurely, his hands rested on the covers, clasped. Demurely, his feet and legs remained in an orderly position, fairly straight and motionless for the most part. His eye movements were frantic—it was almost as though through the violent actions, Chouji hoped to erase the pictures.

Everything these days was unbidden, much like that dull pain that had settled into his chest long ago. He'd been young, he'd been reckless… He'd become a murderer in retribution: he had tried to imagine that his opponents were those lifeless wooden logs at the training grounds, those targets made for shuriken practice at the Shinobi Gakuen.

He's had little to no success. It drove him to the brink of being hysterical. By daylight, he was totally fine, perfectly normal in all respects, minus his decreased appreciation of food. He'd lost a lot of weight, and now bordered on being unhealthy. His friends—Ino, Shikamaru…—didn't understand his sudden glumness. They hadn't fought alongside him. And for their sakes, he was glad. But that was unimportant—everything was once the warm sunlight bled into seemingly-perpetual darkness.

Why was it that only _now_, late at night, he could remember their faces? Old, youthful, fascinated, wildly afraid, gory, disfigured, middle-aged, smiling, wistful, shocked; he could recall every person he had killed, and their dying emotions.

It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

He could tell: he was just falling apart, and this was only the beginning of the aftershock. He was eighteen years old—twenty-two now—when his life took a turn for the worse, and still the remnants appeared to have no intentions whatsoever of halting.

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_


	12. Addicted

**o.O.o.O**

**Generic Title: Catch-22 (a)**

**Title: Allure**

**Set: Uchiha Sasuke**

**Pair: SasuNaruSasu implied.**

**Author: darkenedmoonlightflame**

**Summary: 11th theme: Addicted. (And Naruto is no demon fox.)**

**Rating: K+, for theme.**

**Word Count: 426. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Naruto or the 1000 Themes, and do not claim to. However, everything else, AKA: the writing, (some if not all of) the (theme-guided) plot, any poetic interpretation, et cetera, IS MINE._

(A/N: Better. Set 2 begins. Like it? Hate it? (sighs at the still-there angst) (grumbles) I am not very angsterrific (terrific at angst).

(So, presenting, Catch-22, Part Eleven.)

* * *

**Catch-22 (a)**

**April 3rd, 2007

* * *

**

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_

**Eleven, Addicted—Allure—**

There's something in the way he moves—brashness, thoughtlessness, fearlessness. Sasuke can't help but be attracted. It's primal instinct—not too different from that small, loathsome voice in the back of his head. That sly voice: the very same one that is a constant reminder of _that man_ and of his sole purpose. 'Kill-him-kill-him-kill-him…!' It whispers sordidly from its corner, tucked away but echoing with resonating clarity. 'Before he gets to you, too.'

He's seen the changes. He knows that they aren't natural. The glimpse of danger that pools in Naruto's eyes—but only every now and then—as they flicker ruby… The slight, twisted smirk that he is presented with when the blond drags him down, yanking brutally, fingers locked into the high collar of the Uchiha's shirt… The fangs that slice his tongue as he tries to dominate, and the lack of cuts afterward… The simmering glances that Naruto tosses his way effortlessly, only to be followed by a flash of uncertainty in the form of quivering hands… The way that sometimes Naruto just isn't himself; it isn't right.

'Tomorrow,' The voice delivers smoothly, promising, 'tomorrow, you shall have to face up to it all. You've figured out his dirty little secret already. So how can you be sure that it really _is_ Naruto that loves you, anyway?'

"Naruto is Naruto," He speaks out loud, his tone abrasive and deafening against the backdrop of stillness. "I should know."

'Of course. Naruto is Naruto, and nothing more.' The voice is mocking him, and the repeated words strike him as barbed and sardonic in many ways. He closes his eyes, and calmly curls into himself, placing his hands over his ears. His musings drift back to the good old days, which are all but gone, now. A certain blond-haired, blue-eyed boy offers him an embarrassed, genuine smile, holding out a hand amongst the rubble of his mind's canvas.

Yes, he knows that something is seriously wrong. But the warmth he feels in the mornings, the boy that is snuggled into his side, really is Naruto. But the look of pure bliss that the light-haired boy shoots at him while eating ramen down at the docks, while watching the sunrise together—it really is Naruto. But the tiny smile that overtakes their faces as they spar—it really is Naruto's doing. And Naruto is no demon fox. Let the voice spew its lies; he won't heed them. True or not, he won't, because… Because…

In the end, Sasuke doesn't care. He wants to believe in this, desperately.

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_


	13. Addicted to Your Touch

**o.O.o.O**

**Generic Title: Catch-22 (a)**

**Title: To Watch**

**Set: Uchiha Sasuke**

**Pair: SasuNaruSasu, action complementary. (IT'S FINALLY HERE!)**

**Author: darkenedmoonlightflame**

**Summary: 12th theme: Addicted to Your Touch. (His hands, palms flattened now, press insistently against his companion.) **

**Rating: M (or high T+), for citrus-essence (tangerine class), theme, sexual implications, et cetera.**

**Word Count: 526. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Naruto or the 1000 Themes, and do not claim to. However, everything else, AKA: the writing, (some if not all of) the (theme-guided) plot, any poetic interpretation, et cetera, IS MINE._

(A/N: (grins)

(A Question: So how is it?

(Note: (laughs) I'm sure this'll get a few 'WHAT-THE-HELL?' looks. Ask away.

(So, presenting, Catch-22, Part Twelve.)

* * *

**Catch-22 (a)**

**April 6th, 2007

* * *

**

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_

**Twelve, Addicted to Your Touch—To Watch—**

Eyes half-lidded, Naruto is in rapture. Calmly, neatly, Sasuke slips closer, hands gently trailing everywhere, making it a point to be careful. His touches ghost across the heated torso of the blond, fingertips playing with the hem of the other's silken boxers, the bold black seal on his stomach. The supple, tanned skin's feel is quite charming to him. He smiles a little, leaning over to brush their lips together.

"S-Sa…suke…teme…! I-It's…!"

"Yeah? It's?" The Uzumaki doesn't respond, instead closing his eyes completely and arching into the ministrations of his dark-haired teammate. For a while, Sasuke is merely content to watch the expressions that dance across the whiskered cheeks. His hands, palms flattened now, press insistently against his companion. Naruto's heart beats quickly, and Sasuke listens reverently.

Naruto is beautiful, after all, and it wouldn't be right to ignore him. Not at all.

Together, the neglect melts away. Together, dark ambitions are purged from their veins. Together, the day's events disappear. Together, they remain. Sasuke is reduced to anything-but-mechanical movements, smooth and utterly uncalculated as he admires the blond. Naruto—_Naruto_, of all people—is brought into a state of powerlessness. And it's all at his very own hands. Omnipotence swells within him, _en route_ to satisfaction, and for a second, his touch falters, trembles. But then he recovers, and soon they're both back to Passion once again.

When they're finished, he usually tries—inconspicuously—to forget.

It's uncharacteristic of him to brush off such an important bond, Sasuke knows. But despite the small '_twang!'_ of guilty love striking close to home, he doesn't really feel too badly about doing this to and with his one-and-only friend.

The want is mutual, anyway.

His breath hitches, and he sees. He _sees_. The beauty is everywhere: in Naruto's body, illuminated by candlelight as he pulls on his shirt; in the hastily arranged two-pair of shoes that lounge side-by-side at the door; in the fading twilight that strikes the village motionless. He swallows. **_Hard._**

"Yeah. It's." Sasuke whispers eventually, recovering in an almost breathless fashion, finding himself momentarily missing the inspirational shade of lusty blue that awaits him whenever they meet. Of course, this is only once the afterglow has dissipated, and only when he is truly and thoroughly alone. Then he sits back to antagonize, and to mull it all over. Memories return to him, rushing back, and soon his head is cradled despondently in his hands.

His eyes close, and once again, he's back on what he thinks is a one-way trip to Denial. It would be nice to say that they're in purely in love, that they're public, and that they'll always be together. That because they mean the world to each other—even if it's kept hush-hush and they lie to one another about it—everything will be okay… But the truth is ugly. It's been six years, and they still haven't told anyone.

In its own little way, it's sad, really.

_**o.O.o.O**_

Sometimes, before gathering his clothes and leaving stormily, Naruto asks him a question. It's always the same one. "Do you care at all?" Sasuke thinks it's pointless.

Naruto already knows the answer.

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_

_**Note:**_

1: Okay, so it's not a lemon. But a tangerine is not half-bad—it's much less than a lime, but definitely some measure of raunchiness here. Some day, some day I'll give us all a nice, unedited, hot serving of SasuNaru or ItaNaru. (sighs) Some day. Actual boyXboy sex just didn't fit well in here, so I deleted it out and toned the action down quite a bit. (I had fun writing it up, though.) (smirks)

2: _En route_ is of French origin, meaning 'on or along the way'. (Or so says my uncooperative dictionary.)


	14. Address

**o.O.o.O**

**Generic Title: Catch-22 (a)**

**Title: Rendezvous**

**Set: Uchiha Sasuke**

**Pair: SasuNaruSasu, minor action complementary. **

**Author: darkenedmoonlightflame**

**Summary: 13th theme: Address. (The fingers had traced his jaw-line with careful, soft precision, and Sasuke now wonders why he didn't slap them away.)**

**Rating: K+, for some sexuality.**

**Word Count: 678. **

Disclaimer: I do not own either Naruto or the 1000 Themes, and do not claim to. However, everything else, AKA: the writing, (some if not all of) the (theme-guided) plot, any poetic interpretation, et cetera, IS MINE.

(A/N: (twitches, pokes drabble) Ah. I liked last time much better, but I figured I best put this one up. Sorry for the inactivity, I have relatives practicing their hostile takeover skills with my computer. Poor dear. The computer, that is. (frowns, shakes head) Never mind.

(Note: (twitches) God, I had to be sneaky about this. The server isn't working for uploading (at least, not at my house). So I had to cheat a little and do exports like crazy for this. I'm still not sure as to how well this will work... Please reward my efforts to post with feedback? (gasp) Posting! Updating?

(So, presenting, Catch-22, Part Thirteen.)

**

* * *

**

**Catch-22 (a)**

**April 5th, 2007**

**

* * *

**

…

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

**…**

**Thirteen, Address—Rendezvous—**

In his mind, an old, classic song is playing. Everything he sees would be better in black and white, he thinks. It's ironic, really, how he stands so straight, so unmoving. His feet are rooted to the spot, the little strip of napkin fluttering in his hand. Something in his chest is speeding, faster, faster—Sasuke won't presume, he won't dare, to say it's his heart, because that would be admitting the hope, the unspoken craving.

Conceding is for cowards, or so he thinks.

As he remains here, shoulders squared and face slightly angled upwards, he can't help but reconsider. Perhaps this really _is_ important to him. Perhaps not. Sasuke doesn't want to look any deeper: he's human, and so being superficial should be okay sometimes.

At last, he heaves a sigh and runs a hand through his hair.

It's like something out of his lone friend's romance movies. Ridiculous, but true. Now he kind of—Secretly, secretly!—wishes that he had paid for attention to Sakura's silly, seemingly-childish films. It might have helped him now, in his moment of indecision.

They had met at the bar. He'd love to be sarcastic and insert something witty about an ex-girlfriend or a failed job or even about how tragic life was—but he can't. He has no right to, and it's not even the slightest bit true. He kills for money, and is selfish to the extreme. So it was hardly appropriate—even his cold-hearted bastard-of-a-brother would have understood that. But it's hard to tell, and there's no one to ask, because Sasuke has killed him, too. This was his 'congratulations on that' drink.

"Hi, Mister."

This sonorous boy, grinning despite the salty wetness on his cheekbones, had caught his eye.

'He knows heartbreak,' Sasuke had thought objectively, quietly swirling the vodka in his glass. Downing it all in a single swig, he had inquired flatly, "What do you want." It had sounded more like a statement than a question to his own ears, and he had then bent his gaze towards the countertop and away from the blond-haired, flustered stranger. His purpose in being here was nonexistent, in the stoic brunette's opinion.

Unexpectedly, the boy had leaned over, a hand tenderly drawing Sasuke closer. The fingers had traced his jaw-line with careful, soft precision, and Sasuke now wonders why he didn't slap them away. Maybe he had been too preoccupied, what with the lithe form suddenly pressed close, the lips touching his cheek once, the heady breath drifting over his neck, the sudden hug he had found himself receiving.

Had he looked that unhappy? Distance was achieved and briefly Sasuke had shuddered in his uncomfortable garb, cold. He had recovered immediately, but for his pride, it was a bit overdue.

For a moment, nothing was said. Then, soullessly, "Go away."

Randomly, the drunken intruder had blurted, reaching out: "Visit me sometime. Have a chat with me, you know? You look like you've got something difficult to say." His tone had been crisp, his orbs friendly, his smile foxy. Sasuke had wondered if this person was really stoned at all, before rolling his eyes and getting to his feet. He had signaled to the bartender, paid, and left, collecting his ordinary briefcase and not realizing that his companion had already slipped the address into his suit pocket.

Here and now, Sasuke is knocking on the door. It's been painted recently, and trimmed neatly. It's unusual, he decides at last, reasoning to himself. He'd imagined the kid to be living in a ramshackle, dilapidated apartment, not some tidy little cottage on the border. But this is irrelevant. Scolding himself, he turns away.

Conceding is for cowards, he now knows.

Too late, the door opens, and Sasuke freezes, halfway down the steps.

"Hello? Is that you, Mister?" A tentative smile; yes, he's _that_ sure without looking.

The song comes to a crescendo in Sasuke's brain, rendering the air completely silent and leaving him at a dead-set loss for words. He clears his throat, turns back, and answers slowly, briefcase in hand.

_… _

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

**…**


	15. Adoration

**o.O.o.O**

**Generic Title: Catch-22 (a)**

**Title: Two of a Kind**

**Set: Uchiha Sasuke**

**Pair: SasuNaruSasu, plus an "Aww…" moment. **

**Author: darkenedmoonlightflame**

**Summary: 14th theme: Adoration. (Naruto grins, before picking up the daisy and threading it into his headband.)**

**Rating: K**

**Word Count: 705. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own either Naruto or the 1000 Themes, and do not claim to. However, everything else, AKA: the writing, (some if not all of) the (theme-guided) plot, any poetic interpretation, et cetera, IS MINE.**

(A/N: I wanted something light-hearted. So here, fellow fluff addicts! Cute?

(So, presenting, Catch-22, Part Fourteen.)

**

* * *

**

**Catch-22 (a)**

**April 7th, 2007**

**

* * *

**

…

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

**…**

**Fourteen, Adoration—Two of a Kind—**

Sasuke is good to him. Halfway through the movie, Naruto hides a blush, beating back a tiny smile as Sasuke fakes a yawn, openly and broadly stretching. As expected, the pale arm comes to rest across his chair's back, wrapping itself securely around him. It doesn't matter if the furniture at Sakura's is uncomfortable, or if the stares they get from the totally-smashed party-goers on the floor are odd. It just doesn't matter.

Later, when Sasuke walks Naruto home—they've fallen into a similar routine, actually—there are no furious glares for Naruto and no blushing fans for Sasuke. They're met with silence, and are content. At the doorstep, Sasuke bids Naruto goodnight, and they share a chaste kiss. 'Pretense!' Naruto's mind screams, '_Pretense!_'

'Lie,' Naruto shoots back, hitting the mark, 'Lies.'

After, they both go on with their lives.

In the morning, Naruto finds a note from Sakura on the doormat, and a flower taped to the front door. There is nothing else. Clearly bewildered, he blinks and gapes for a long time. Stuttering with disbelief, he whisks the bit of perfumed paper off of the ground, and collects the perfectly-preserved flower. He strokes the petals, gazing at the still-present dew drops as he wanders back into his apartment.

"What would Sasuke-teme say?" He wonders aloud, slender brows furrowed as he unseals the letter. His name is written elegantly, divinely straight and in exemplary kanji on the cover. 'It must have taken a while,' He muses inattentively. He hears the crisp knocking, and calls out, "Wait a minute, okay?"

Once he's gutted and shaken out the cherry-blossom-pink envelope, he lays it all out. A photo featuring Sakura chasing the other members of Team Seven with the broom, all-but spewing flames at the bushes they had huddled behind (Kakashi-sensei had made one of _those_ comments, again); a small card reading 'I KNOW. AND GOOD LUCK!'; a daisy. He's puzzled, but doesn't show it when Sasuke suddenly barges in, kunai raised and dark, dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. When prompted, the prodigy mutters grumpily, "I was worried. It was quiet."

Naruto grins, before picking up the daisy and threading it into his headband. He doesn't get it at all, but it's a pretty little thing, and he thinks that not making use of a gift is rude. Sasuke kindly offers: "You look ridiculous." The blue-eyed teenager pouts, before shrugging and dragging the dark-haired shinobi with him to the training grounds of Cell Seven.

In the evening, he's having dinner with Sasuke. It's very spontaneous, but he inquires nonetheless. "What are daisies, teme?"

Sasuke looks—no, _looks_—at him.

"No, no! Sasuke, I didn't mean it that way! Not like, 'What is a daisy?' Even I'm not _that_ dumb! Just… it's just not like that! I wasn't thinking of the right question… So, okay. Here it is: what I really wanted to ask was more like: 'What do daisies mean?' You get it, right? Right?"

"What an onslaught. Daisies are…" The Uchiha pauses, trying fervently to remember the lessons his mother taught him, long ago in the estate gardens. "Daisies stand for innocence, loyal love, purity, and 'I'll never tell'. Why?" A sudden smile has crossed over the blond's face, and it makes him wary.

"Oh, nothing. Thanks for dinner, Sasuke-teme! I've gotta run!" Speechless in the face of such fantastic speed, Sasuke raises a brow, extending a hand in an act of misplaced hope. But he's too slow—What a sentiment!—and there's no stopping the hyperactive boy. His gesture is of no use. He sighs, settles down, and finishes his tempura moodily, internally swearing to get to the bottom of it all.

**__**

o.O.o.O

The next day, there is another flower taped to Naruto's door, and another card. This time, no neat penmanship greets him. The flower is off-center, and at a peculiar, jarring slant. There is no envelope, no pleasant scent. Everything is simplistic, and right away, Naruto can tell that Sakura isn't the sender.

Cautiously, he picks up the hasty message and reads it, at the same time detaching the cheery daisy from the door.

Seconds later, he adds the luscious bloom to his strangely-decorated hitae-ate, happy smile already growing.

**__**

o.O.o.O

TO MATCH.

LOVE,

SASUKE.

…

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**

**…**

**Note: **

(laughs) In case no one recognizes it, the yawn-stretch-arm thing is a classic date move. (grins) Hope it wasn't _too_ soppy. And no, Sakura didn't mean the flower as an 'I love you' kind of thing. I hope her note clears that up.


	16. Adrenaline

**o.O.o.O**

**Generic Title: Catch-22 (a)**

**Title: Afterthought**

**Set: Uchiha Sasuke**

**Pair: SasuNaruSasu, maybe even minute ItaNaru hints. **

**Author: darkenedmoonlightflame**

**Summary: 15****th**** theme: Adrenaline. (Adrenaline fits in quite neatly, nestled somewhere in Sasuke's chilled heart between Naruto's naïve smile and the left ventricle.)**

**Rating: T, for theme, comparisons.**

**Word Count: 418. **

_Disclaimer: I do not own either Naruto or the 1000 Themes, and do not claim to. However, everything else, AKA: the writing, (some if not all of) the (theme-guided) plot, any poetic interpretation, et cetera, IS MINE._

(A/N: Here we are. (grins) Good to be home. Darkness, darkness, darkness (is love). Thoughts?

(So, presenting, Catch-22, Part Fifteen.)

* * *

**Catch-22 (a)**

**April 7th, 2007

* * *

**

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_

**Fifteen, Adrenaline—Afterthought—**

Vaguely, he wonders when it came to be. Up until now, everything has revolved around hatred: he merely has a single goal to fulfil. That is what he lives for. Iridescent blue eyes do not belong in his monochromatic lifetime.

He's been told that they do not belong together. They do not fit. Azure and onyx, both precious, both rough. They can't get along. Sasuke realizes that it's all futile, all in vain, sometime around their anniversary. Sometime around when he plans to treat his teammate to a bowl or twelve of cheap ramen, and instead finds himself offering out a bouquet of flowers and some romantically-destructive homemade cooking. Naruto's bright eyes had danced with amusement at the gelatinous mess, but nonetheless they had eaten it together and slept under the stars. Together.

Vaguely, he wonders if he'll ever be able to get over the fact that they're _together_ now. (Still.)

Secretly, he wonders if this little phenomenon is the only thing that brought Itachi to the scene. Sasuke—for the very first time in his life—pities his elder brother. He's too late, after all. Poor, poor out-of-loop-Itachi.

(And yes, it's a rather excellent feeling.)

Of course, there were… complications.

Vaguely, he wonders if he'll be able to make the deadline. Naruto's life is on the line, and here he is, pondering. Wasting time, waiting for no particular reason, spending precious seconds doing absolutely nothing but subjecting himself to suffocating nostalgia. Sasuke's eyes narrow, bleached a sudden, bloody red. It's the color of Determination. The color Itachi's blood must surely be.

The color of roses, if he remembers correctly.

_Love._ Blood beats frantically throughout him, plunging ahead, his heart-rate skyrocketing. Adrenaline fits in quite neatly, nestled somewhere in Sasuke's chilled heart between Naruto's naïve smile and the left ventricle. _Love_. How he hates the word, and how—when coupled with that familiar blond-haired, blue-eyed boy—it makes him do such nonsensical things…!

It irritates him. And it's not because they "aren't meant to be" or "don't fit", et cetera, et cetera. He could care less. But… _Love._ He can't even properly define such a thing. Roses, roses, Naruto, happiness, romance, novels, roses, roses, dinner, equality, Naruto, benevolence, expenses beyond compare, memories, roses, smirks, confidence, Naruto, dating, roses, roses, Naruto, Naruto, Naruto-Naruto-Naruto…!

The damn word might as well be 'Naruto'. He sighs, short-tempered and exhausted to the brink of Insanity. His legs feel like molten lead: gooey and slow.

Vaguely, he wonders if he can run any faster.

…

_**o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o**_

_**…**_


End file.
